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THUD!

“Aarrgh!” the loud grunt bounced off the high walls of the gym. Ororo landed hard on her back on the exercise mat. Not one to squander an advantage, Logan moved in for the kill.

Sensing his large form coming at her, Ororo shook off her momentary paralysis and arched her back desperately. In one fluid movement, she snapped her leg out allowing her foot to connect with a solid THUNK to Logan’s chin. Using her momentum, she followed through with her other foot and did a back hand spring that Nadia Comaneci would envy.

Stars blossomed behind Logan’s eyes as his head snapped back from the impact of Ororos’ foot. He was just able to catch himself from landing ignominiously on his butt and keep his footing. Shaking his head to clear his senses he saw his opponent flip over and immediately crouch in a fighter’s stance. Even in his momentary daze, he smiled inwardly. Damn but she had gotten good!

Logan went into his own crouch and the two combatants circled each other warily. Only their stentorian breathing punctuated the silence in the gym. Whisky brown eyes honed in mercilessly on blue and each one waited for that infinitesimal sign that the other was planning to attack, all the while looking for any area of weakness to go on the offensive.

But it was not to be. A bell like chime sounded quietly in the room and, like a balloon releasing air, the two opponents relaxed. Ororo allowed herself to fall back wearily on the mat, her breasts heaving madly, her glorious white hair matted to her skull and face. Logan, meanwhile, stretched mightily. His powerful form was in full extension as he moved his head left then right to crack the bones in his neck. He waggled his chin experimentally and was a little chagrined to note that it hurt.

Looking down at Ororo as she lay across the mat, he was reminded of a marionette whose strings had been cut. But what a marionette! Her long lean form was sprawled wantonly on the mat covered floor. Her chest still rose and fell under the black sport bra and her endless legs splayed in opposite directions. His heart might belong elsewhere, but he was a man with a strong appreciation for women and he couldn’t help but be reminded that his best friend was one damned hot looking woman.

Wandering over to the edge of the floor he picked up two water bottles and came back to settle beside her. Her eyes peeked open as she felt him drop down next to her. Sitting up herself, she reached greedily for the bottle.

“Bless you!” She moaned and proceeded to chug down the water.

Logan grunted and drank down his own water. The two stretched in companionable silence as their breathing regulated and their bodies cooled down.

“That was some move at the end there” He finally said breaking the silence.

Looking over she grinned giddily “I almost set you on your ass, buddy.”

“Almost don’t count, Darlin’” He smirked standing up and reaching a hand down to help her up.

Making their way over to where their bags sat, the two friends chatted amiably.

“Hank and I are going to the Blue Room tonight. Why don’t you come along and bring your mysterious girlfriend. It’ll be fun. Hank went to the mall to get a new haircut, we can make fun of it.” Ororo’s tone was light and breezy but her eyes were intent as she watched his reaction closely. She knew he was seeing someone. And not just one of the random women he’d pick up, date for a week or two and drop to move on to the next. This one was different.

“I ain’t got a girlfriend, ‘Ro, I told ya that before.” Not missing a beat Logan gave her a quick swat on the ass and a leer “you’re the only girl in my heart.”

Ororo rolled her eyes in exasperation just as he expected her to. But on the inside she wept. She and Logan had hit it off almost immediately when he had started teaching at Xavier’s a little over two years ago. They’d had a lot of common interests and just seemed to gravitate toward each other. But it wasn’t at all romantic. They were the best of friends “ going out to Harry’s to do Tequila shots, playing pool at Red Jack’s, and riding hell-for-leather on his motorcycle. Yup, she was his buddy, his pal, one of the guys.

At first that was fine. Ororo just enjoyed having a coworker and a friend who was such a great companion on so many levels. She even found it genuinely amusing to tease him about his many conquests and the women who went crazy over him. He was not conventionally handsome, but he was a man that women looked at twice. Or three times. And followed home. He seemed to emit some especially powerful pheromone that had women from miles around puddle at his feet, panting for him.

But gradually something had changed for Ororo. Not sure how, or even when, it happened, one day Ororo realized that her amusement at the legion of women Logan dated had grown a bitter edge. Her teasing had become feigned and she could no longer watch with equanimity as Logan slow danced with some bar chippy or came back whistling in the wee hours after a night out with one of his women. She just knew that at some point she had fallen in love with her friend and he was completely oblivious to her feelings for him.

Instinctively, Ororo knew that if she had ever told him how she felt, she’d lose him. Oh, he wouldn’t hate her, exactly. But he’d be aware of her feelings and would feel helpless and guilty that he couldn’t return them. It would slowly, inexorably drive an awkward wedge into their relationship. They would lose their comfort zone. So she continued on as his best bud, making sure he never got even a whiff of her new feelings.

Instead she continued to “laugh” at his conquests and “tease” him about his fan girls. While she herself tried to seek a relationship that would allow her to forget her feelings for him. For long weeks she had thought she had succeeded. Her relationship with Hank McCoy, a biochemistry teacher at the school, was proceeding along nicely. He was falling in love with her and she was very….fond… of him. She was content.

Until Logan started smiling at nothing.

Until Logan started disappearing at odd times and reappearing with a satisfied smirk.

Until Logan stopped picking up bar flies.

Then Ororo realized that Logan had finally met someone. Despite her delicate---and then increasingly not so delicate---probing, he refused to divulge. That was when she realized that this someone was special. And Logan wouldn’t talk about her.

As the two made their way to the exit, Ororo decided try once more.

“C’mon Logan, this is me, you’re talking to.” She snorted and gave him a stern, laughing look. That’s it. Just the right tone girly, you deserve an Oscar, an inner voice mocked her. “Who pretended to be your psycho wife when that little blonde tried to move in?” Hell, throw in an Emmy and a Golden Globe while you’re at it.

Logan just chuckled and swung open the door. Backing down the hall toward his small office where she knew he had his own private bathroom where he’d no doubt grab a quick shower, he threw her a devastating smile. “The wolf walks alone, Darlin’. The wolf walks alone.” And with one last wink at her he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.


~~~/////~~~~/////~~~~~/////~~~~~

A half hour later, Ororo was sitting in the teacher’s lounge grading papers when Scott dropped down in a seat next to her.

“Hello stranger.” She smiled at the handsome young man who shared the Dean of Students duties with her. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Are you busy counting down your days as a free man?” Ororo laughed a low smoky velvety laugh which unbeknownst to her was the cause of some fevered fantasies among the male students and faculty at the school.

Scott shot her an aggrieved look as he unpacked his lunch which just made her laugh even more.

“Alex is hounding me about a bachelor party. Jean is hounding me about the honeymoon. I’d be happy to tell her, but somehow I was convinced by some people” he shot her a pointed look over the tops of his fashionably tinted glasses “to make it a huge surprise. So I am forced to act like James Bond and keep everything a secret. Do you know how hard it is to make incognito travel plans? Everybody from the hotel, to the car rental place keep sending confirmations. I had to change my email password. And to top it all off, her parents are wondering if they should invite third cousin Irma. She’d have to travel all the way from Arizona to New York during the Christmas Holidays. So we had to listen to her parents complain for an hour why we chose to have a Christmas wedding. And Jean didn’t even know she had a relative named Irma.” He contemplated his ham and cheese sandwich in both misery and puzzlement “tell me again why we aren’t just eloping?”

Ororo found herself chuckling during his recitation but was able answer sympathetically “Because you are in love with a woman who has dreamed of a traditional white wedding all her life. No way would Jean would have ever eloped, sweetness.”

His shoulders slumped and he bit into his sandwich, “You’re right. I love her quite sickeningly and would walk over hot shards of glass to do her bidding. It just seemed so benign when we were discussing this a year ago. Now that it is barely two months away, I find that everything seems to be colliding. I can’t catch my breath. But I’d endure anything because when all is said and done she’ll be my wife and that is what I want more than anything.”

Ororo felt a hot stab of envy deep in her chest as she listened to the simple, heartfelt words of love and devotion Scott spoke. Goddess, what must it be like to be loved that? She wondered silently and a not a little forlornly.

“Hank and I are going to The Blue Room for dinner and fabulous jazz. Why don’t you guys join us?”

“Can’t. I have a review session tonight and Jean is doing some extra tutoring.”

Mentally casting back over the last few weeks, Ororo realized that Jean had been busy doing something every night. If she wasn’t doing her tutoring, she was closeted with Ororo hip deep in wedding planning or working with other faculty in her role as Director of Advising.

“Scott, when was the last time you two had any time alone?” Ororo’s concerned voice cut into his morose reverie.

“I can’t tell you, Roro.” He wadded up the plastic wrap his sandwich had been in and started on his apple. Ro had to smile. Scott was so proper in some ways with his oh so correct ham sandwich followed by his meticulously polished red apple all washed down with 1% milk in a little carton. “If she’s free then I am busy and vice versa. We’re having to squeeze all this wedding stuff in between the teaching and administrative duties.”

“Goddess, Scott, you guys are an engaged couple. You need some romantic time alone. You can’t just ignore each other until you just happen to meet up at the altar.” She turned around and faced him sternly “You need to kidnap her and take her someplace nobody will find you “ the Greenhouse maybe--- and have a romantic picnic followed by a slow, leisurely lovemaking session.”

Scott smiled wistfully at the picture Ororo painted. “I wish. We could do the picnic but sexually we’re off limits til the wedding.”

A pair of white brows rose in utter shock. “Jean never told me this. Since when?”

Scott shrugged “Since about a month ago.” He looked at Roro a bit uncomfortably as if he wasn’t sure he should be talking about something so personal. But truthfully, it was a bit of a relief to be able to talk to someone else. He couldn’t talk to his male friends. Lord knew that Logan or Piotr would have a field day. Especially Logan. He’d make little remarks about Jeannie wearing the pants in the family and calling the shots even before they were married. Or he’d laugh and say that Scott was the first man in history who was pussy whipped without first getting the pussy. Scott shuddered. He knew his friend too well.

“The fact is, Ro, she made this whole speech about how she regretted not being, you know, a -- ” he looked around the nearly deserted room to see if anyone was listening “ “ virgin on her wedding night. So she called off all conjugal relations until then. Said she wanted it to be special for us. She wanted us to anticipate it.”

Ro was silent for a moment and then she smiled “I can actually see Jean saying something like that. It is actually quite nice Scott.”

Not sure whether to be relieved that Roro seemed to understand or disgruntled that she wasn’t outraged on his behalf, Scott simply nodded. “Yeah, I can only hope her anticipation is as great as mine because this celibacy thing is driving me nuts.”

-----/////-----/////-----

“Ugh….Oh, yeah…right there…Ooooh baby right there. You’re hitting my spot. Harder! FUCK me harder….Aaaaahhhhh…..!!” spurred on by the voice of his moaning lover, Logan obliged.

Hitching her legs higher around his waist, he clutched her ass in his hands and drove into her with a renewed ferocity. The powerful muscles in his thighs flexed and his entire body was sheened in sweat. The savage thrusts resulted in a tinny, rhythmic rat-a-tat against the ancient gray locker in Logan’s office. But the lovers were oblivious. Too consumed with lust to even make it to the couch when they started, Logan had taken her up against the locker. Once he’d sheathed himself inside of her, both were insensible to anything else.

“Like….that, baby? Is….that….what…you…want…?” Each word was punctuated with a thrust. Each thrust was answered with a moan.

“Yeah…like that. Ooohhhhh…!!” He knew she was near. She started to become incoherent when she got close. Her movements became more frenzied and her hands clutched at his hair harder. She tried to push her head back but the locker was in her way, so she had to settle with simply closing her eyes and letting her body ride that wonderful cock.

For a moment he let himself revel in the sight before him. Her little pencil skirt was jacked high at her waist, one red stiletto shoe was hanging by one red painted toenail, the other was lying discarded on the floor. Her simple silk blouse was hanging open and her bra was pushed down under her breasts causing them to spill over the top and plump together. He was able to take both cherry red nipples in his mouth at once. Flicking them delicately with his tongue caused her to shriek and buck like a wild thing.

“Oh God!...Oh God!...Oh God!’ She chanted it like a mantra, flinging her head forward so that her hair, once in a demure bun when she walked in, now drifted over his shoulder in a wild disarray, obscuring her face from him.

Her movements were now herky-jerky and she began to keen.

“I’m coming…..ohhhhh YESSSSSS!!!” He felt her inner walls clench and she clamped her legs even tighter around his waist. Unable to bear it, she sank her teeth into his shoulder and rode out her orgasm.

That was his cue. With a grunt he smashed her up against the locker. His powerful arms held her rigid as he pumped, pumped and pumped some more into her. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to go as deep as he could and stay there. He loved coming inside of her, it was like he was marking his territory. She was his no matter what everyone else thought. No matter what the ring on her finger said.

Feeling his orgasm approaching light a freight train, Logan pistoned into her harder and felt himself release hot spurts into her. He kept moving, unable to stop even after he had been emptied. Finally he stilled.

For long moments there was no sound but harsh breathing and the thumpety-thump of two hearts fighting for normal rhythm. Slowly the two disengaged.

Her other red shoe dropped.

Stumbling like a drunk, Logan dropped onto the small couch in his office, his equally affected partner simply slid down the locker and sat on the floor.

Slowly she began to gather herself together. Her hosiery was a dead loss, so she simply discarded them. She found her panties lying half in and half out of the waste paper basket. Logan watched her through slitted eyes as she shimmied into her underwear, re-adjusted her bra, smoothed her skirt back down, and began to re-button her blouse.

It was like watching a movie in re-wind as the woman slowly reassembled herself.

“We can’t continue like this, Red.” Logan’s deep voice rumbled into the silence.

A pair of green eyes met his for a fleeting moment before dropping away.

“I know.” She answered quietly, her back to him as she began to gather her hair back into its bun.

“Ororo suspects I have a girlfriend. She’s been buggin’ me about going on a double date.”

Jean remained silent, still turned away, still fixing herself.

“Scooter wants a poker night next week.” Logan continued “And he asked me to be in the weddin’” he waited a beat “I said no.”

The only response was a slight tightening of her shoulders.

Logan got angry and stalked over to her, grabbing her and swinging her around to face him.

“What do ya want from me, Jeannie? Huh? What? What do we have here?” His dark eyes bored into face “We been sneaking around to hotels and finding little out of the way places to make love for weeks now. What have we been doing? When are you telling Scott? When are you breakin’ tha engagement?”

Her eyes widened “What? Are you out of your mind? I’m not telling Scott at all. I’m not breaking my engagement.” She was staring at him as if he had grown a second head “Why would you even think that?”

Stunned, Logan dropped her arm “What do you mean? What have these last three weeks been about then?”

Jean sighed. What had she been thinking to start this? She’d known that Logan had fancied himself in love with her from almost the moment he’d arrived to teach at Xavier’s. Hell, the whole school had known. People had teased them and started a betting pool. Over time they had settled into a pattern -- Logan flirted, Scott got annoyed and Jeannie ignored them both. When Scott had finally proposed Logan had seemed to concede that Jeannie wasn’t for him and had laid off the flirting. Everyone assumed that it had been a passing infatuation largely fueled by Logan’s need to challenge Scott’s Alpha male status amongst the faculty. Suddenly the little triangle drama that had provided almost a year of entertainment for the school was over. Scott and Logan had become friends and people turned their attention to other things. Ororo had walked away with a cool eight-hundred bucks, being the only person who bet that Jean wouldn’t succumb to Logan.

If only she knew, Jean thought grimly. With the pressure of the wedding mounting and all the…stuff… seeming to close in on her, Jean had just wanted to get away for a few moments to breathe. She’d run into Logan in the garage working on his bike. Seeing him there, covered in grease, his dark hair unruly and unkempt, his brawny arms rippling with muscles --- he just seemed the anti-Scott. So different from what she’d ever had. From what she’d ever have. She’d been overcome by a spear of lust so sudden and acute that she had doubled over from its impact.

A madness had overtaken her and she’d slowly, as if in a trance, walked to him to run her fingers over his bronzed skin. They had fucked right there, on the floor of the garage. They had simply, brazenly mated amongst the tools and grease. The scent of sex had mingled easily with the scent of oil.

Even then, Logan had muttered words of love and longing. Jean had assumed it was part of his sexual M.O. But she had later realized he had never gotten over his first infatuation with her. Instead he had buried it. And now, thanks to her impulsiveness, it had come roaring back to life, stronger than before. He was in love with her.

And now, he expected…something. Something she couldn’t give. Although Logan was probably the best fuck she’d ever had, she wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t blind to her own shortcomings. She knew that she was behaving badly. But she was in love with Scott and she wanted to marry him, settle down and have little Summers babies more than she wanted anything in the world. Logan had been a release valve she had desperately needed these past weeks. But he wasn’t the man of her dreams.

Something of her thoughts must have reflected on her face because Logan’s face slowly settled into carved stone.

“You were just fucking me. And fuckin’ with me.” He whispered in a voice of total realization “I been buildin’ a little fantasy that you were gonna throw Scooter over and come to me, when all along you were just gettin’ yer rocks off.”

His bitter chuckle scored her soul. But she said nothing, standing silently letting him come to the correct conclusion. Her eyes tracked him as he sat back on the couch, his head thrown back, hands over his face.

“You need ta go.”

“Logan--- ” She cleared her throat “I am sorry. I didn’t think that this meant more to you--”

“GO!” the word spat like a bullet from his lips.

Before she could turn, the door suddenly pushed open and Piotr stood there a somber look on his ashen face. Jean barely registered him, realizing with shock and dismay that they had forgotten to lock the door. They had gotten careless. Anyone could have walked in. God! She was an idiot!

“Oh, I guess you guys have already heard?” Piotr looked at the pair, their body language telegraphing utter dejection. “Who told you? Have you seen Ororo yet?”

Realizing something was wrong, Logan’s hands slowly lowered from his face and Jean stared uncomprehendingly at Piotr.

Piotr’s gaze flicked from the red head to the muscular guy sitting slumped on the couch. “What? You guys haven’t heard?

“What?” Jean asked starting to become alarmed “Heard what?’

“Oh man,” Pitor’s face crumpled “Hank was killed. He’s dead. Hank is dead.”





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